Devotion
by adalric
Summary: As one of the Emperor's Dark Jedi leaves his services, Darth Vader is sent after him to either bring him back or kill him. However, with victory close at hand something goes horribly wrong...
1. Chapter 1

**Devotion**

**by adalric**

**Chapter One**

It was nearing ship´s midnight when the report finally came in. It was about time. For the last several hours, Darth Vader had paced the room incessantly, squeezing his hands impatiently with his mind brooding and exploring its own darkest areas. And when the console on his desk finally gave an affirmative beep he instantly stirred from his fruitless thoughts.

He went over to read the displayed message. Another hint of the prey's whereabouts, but this time a promising one.

Darth Vader allowed himself a small smile, hidden savely behind his ebony mask so that noone would see it and maybe draw false conclusions. "When was this filed in?" he asked the ship's captain who had just entered the reception area of his quarters and who was exceptionally nervous and sweating. If he had time he would be bored by this frequent display of fear and incompetence amongst his officers. He chose to ignore it, as he always tried to do when he did not have the energy and patience to draw on these emotions as was the nature of the dark side.

"Half an hour ago, mylord. The contact seems to be a professional information seller of whom the Empire has made use before. He seems to be reliable."

Vader looked up, scrutinizing the man for a long, quiet moment. His voice was cold and had more than an edge of challenge as he spoke: "You choose your words carefully. Is he or is he not to be trusted?"

He saw the man swallow, probably cursing himself for trying to play word games with a Dark Lord. "The information he has sold before has always been reliable. We have no reason to believe it is now otherwise."

Vader was quiet for another dreadfully long and silent moment. He probed the Force but it did not answer his request for guidance. "Very well. Set course for Gardha, then. Best speed available."

"Yes, mylord", the young man said, turned and headed out of the Dark Lord´s private rooms. Before he reached the door, however, his superior brought him to a halt. "Remember, there is no place under my command for those who are unable to take responsibility."

"Yes, mylord. I will remember."

"Good. Dismissed."

After the door closed, Darth Vader leaned back in his chair and allowed himself a moment of relief.

Finally. After six months of hunting, after finding and following a trace only to lose it again, their prey just one step ahead, this might possibly be the end. And it was about time. Vader thought it a waste of his time and resources the Empire could not spare. Apart from the small and never ending uprisings on one planet or other, calling Imperial Forces to reestablish order, the persistent rumors and first small evidences for an organized resistance were too important to be just dismissed the way the Emperor seemed to be comfortable with. It was important to push back any rebellion before it had the chance to gain followers.

But what the Emperor willed was so. And this time, for motives unfathomable for even the Dark Lord, he had ordered his most trusted servant to go out personally and hunt for one of his wayward apprentices, thereby forcing him to neglect his duties and work with the Fleet. It had happened before, of course, that one of them had run off, foolishly believing to be able to hide from the galactic ruler. How very wrong they were they probably realized only the moment they were again brought before their master. Not everyone survived. Adalric Brandl, however, had proven himself to be more clever than his predecessors. What made him special for the Emperor sending out Darth Vader himself remained in the shadows. The Dark Lord had met Brandl only two or three times before and had found nothing especially recognizable about the young man.

Vader leaned back his head and closed his eyes, remembering. It had been one of those tedious functions at the Imperial Palace, the promotion of someone, perhaps … he could no longer remember. He had been standing slightly off, being bored and craving to get out of this room to the secure isolation of his chambers. But his master had ordered him to stay until the formalities were over, and so he stayed. At some point of the ceremony, the young Dark Jedi had stepped up to him—something unusual in itself, for other beings, wisely, kept their distance from the Dark Lord. "One can only wonder how the New Order is supposed to succeed when people are forced to let themselves be bored to death by this", the young man had said. Darth Vader had believed it an attempt at wry humour and did not answer. It was known throughout the galaxy that he did not have any sense of humour, after all. The Dark Jedi had left only moments after his comment. Despite his efforts to be the ever-faithful servant his master expected him to be Vader found himself wondering about the truthfulness of this comment.

Enough of this, he thought as he lay the report aside, switched off the lights and closed the jawed lids of his chamber. It was time for some serious meditation. After all, if he really encountered Brandl at the end of this journey he would need all his strength and could not afford to be distracted by thoughts of how close Brandl´s opinion actually came to his. And of how he sometimes longed to do it as the Dark Jedi had done: to simply run away and be done with the Empire, darkness and servitude.

But he was a Dark Lord of the Sith. It was a commitment for life and he had sworn allegiance to his master.

The joy and prospect of an end to the hunt had been too early.

He stood in the middle of a large room of beautiful architecture, a testimony to the craftsmanship arts had achieved on this far-away world. It was flooded with red light from the sunset, reflecting on the Dark Lord´s armour and helmet and making him appear the focus of the light.

But if the information seller noticed the strange play of light before him he did not show any sign. He was a business man, and this was business. High business, admittedly, but business nonetheless. "I though it prudent not to hold him back. He might have got suspicious. Also, delaying his departure seemed not wise for I don't know how much a Jedi will be able to draw out of the mind of another."

The ominous black mask swiveled abruptly towards him. "He is no Jedi!", the Dark Lord uttered firmly.

The man quickly bowed his head, carefully choosing his words. "Of course not, mylord."

Vader was quiet. This was quite unreasonable, to react to the mention of Jedi in that way. But the hunt had indeed stirred memories, old memories, long dormant. He tried to shove them away. "When did he leave?"

"Only three hours ago. The name of the planet where he's headed is Myrkr, not far from here, just off the trade route. As far as I know, only forest and almost no living beings."

Darth Vader nodded only distantly at this and the information seller took his chance, bowed quickly his head and hurried to the door. Vader's eyes followed him until the door closed and then let out a deep sigh, turning to the window. He did not know why the man's words affected him so, he could only suspect that this hunt for Brandl reminded him too much of the Jedi Purges ten years ago. And although they had been a great personal victory for the former Jedi he had never been given the chance and time to deal with the traumatic effect they certainly had on him.

The Jedi's demise had been celebrated throughout the Empire and he himself had been rewarded and publicly commended for this glorious victory, but the thought of that time stirred something inside the Dark Lord, something he did not wish to be reminded of. He was afraid of these memories. And yes, fear was of the dark side, but not really becoming of a Dark Lord: to master the dark side meant to master his fear, not let himself be overwhelmed by it. However, if he was any judge of his own emotions that was exactlywhat was happening right now.

He took a deep breath and reached out to the Force to calm himself. This would lead him nowhere. But he could control his memories only to a certain degree, and only on good days. Obviously this was not a good day.

He remembered the time of the Purges vividly, a time when he was still new to the arts of the dark, still new to this life of endless rage and anger and discontentment. He closed his eyes as he remembered what that felt like.

He had not yet mastered to control his anger, to channel its power and use it as a weapon. Too often he felt defeated by his overpowering feelings, raging through his days and leaving him exhausted for the nights when he succumbed to sleep that was fitful at best. Too many had suffered his wrath at that time; sometimes he could not even remember the next day who and how many had died, and for what. He was blinded by this furious anger and hate; hate for his former fellow Jedi as he hunted them through the star systems, hate for his old master and for his finaly treachery, for leaving him crippled and burning on the shores of a lava river, hate for himself for destroying his life so utterly and now being unable and afraid and too cowardly to atone for his faults. But atone he did nevertheless, every day, every waking hour of knowing that it was only him to be blamed for the misery in his own life. And the only way of relief from this crushing guilt was giving in to this hate, let it dominate his thoughts and actions because then there was no space left for for doubts and sorrow and mourning.

He had raged like a tormenting, violent thunderstorm through various star systems, only a means and power conduit for the destruction the dark side wrought. And finally this destruction had turned upon himself, a year and a half after Mustafar when his body was still fragile and healing. He had often found himself, disbelieving and disoriented, in some medical ward, being fixed and laboured on by some droid or physician, explaining in all detail what had been damaged this time. It was only then that his new master had deemed him worthy of a lesson in the dark side. He could remember that as well.

He had been on Coruscant, in his private infirmary in the part of the Imperial Palace that had been reserved for him, after a new bout of raving, self-destructive rage had left him incapacitated for already two weeks, with yet more to come. he lay on his bed and concentrated on keeping the pain at bay when he heard the chime that signaled the arrival of a visitor. Palpatine had entered the room but he had made no move to acknowledge his arrival. Once he had felt reverence and admiration for this man, now there was only emptiness. His master had stepped at his bedside and taken the chair, only watching him for several long and silent minutes.

Finally he could bear the silence no more. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice coarse and faint. It was always difficult and sometimes even impossible to speak when the respiratory tube was directly connected to the attachment at his throat; the doctors had assured him, long ago, that his vocal chords would somewhat heal with time and he could achieve some unassisted use of his natural voice, but like everything they had promised this seemed to take "just a little bit more time".

"Ah, my apprentice, I wondered when you would have enough courage to talk to me."

"This has nothing to do with courage."

"Enlighten me, then", Palpatine spread his hands in a perfect gesture of friendliness.

However, he had only shaken his head. "I am … tired."

Palpatine just smiled. "You seem to be tired too many times, lately. Tell me what happened."

Surely the doctors had already told him. "I was distracted during an attack and shot twice. My troops managed to transport me back to the ship. I cannot remember anything else."

"But surely you can remember why this happened?"

"I was distracted …"

"No! You were a Jedi. You are a Sith. Distraction is no excuse for our kind."

He closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to shut out the face of the man he had once called friend. He was not yet ready for another lecture. He just wanted to be left alone.

He felt a hand on his chest, just where the shot had hit him. The pain was slowly subsiding at the touch, his lungs no longer hurting with every breath. It was a special moment.

"You know the power of the dark side, my friend. Why don't you use it?"

"I … try, master." He opened his eyes again and hoped there was not too much pleading in them. "I cannot …I …" The words failed him and he felt despondent, worthless.

The hand moved upwards to touch his forehead. "Lord Vader, I know this is a difficult time for you. But you _must_ learn focus. You have enough anger in you for a dozen Sith, but you don't use it. You have to savour the moment but not at the cost of losing control. You have to accumulate your hate until you can make use of it. Only then you may unleash your power."

They were quiet for a few moments, and Palpatine withdrew his hand. "I will order the droids to dress you now. You will join me in the throne room for a lesson in control, my apprentice."

"Master, I am not healthy enough to …"

But Palpatine had cut off his words. "Pain is a strong motivator for the dark side, Lord Vader. Do not worry, you will be given enough time to heal. But remember always: your devotion is to the dark side, and sacrifices must be made."

"Lord Vader? Lord Vader…!"

Slowly, Darth Vader returned to the presence and noticed the ship's captain, who had accompanied him to the planet, standing at his side.

"What is it?"

"What are your orders, mylord?"

"Brandl has been here. He left for a planet called Myrkr. You will leave and rejoin the Fleet and I shall follow Brandl in my shuttle."

"Yes, mylord." The man gave a short bow and left.

Vader reached out to the Force, let the dark side surround him completely. Yes, Brandl had been here. But he no longer intended to run. He did not know exactly what he planned but he could say that his prey – as well as Vader himself – grew tired of this hunt.

It was time to end this.

The planet beyond the small vessel's viewports was a pleasing interplay of huge soft green forests and brown, rough plains that stretched far across its surface to the blue oceans that were shining in the sun's faint light.

The pilot, however, did not even recognize the comforting beauty the planet offered him. Instead he held his gaze on the ship's screens, waiting for his prey to get into range of his weapons. When it finally happened he let out a satisfied sigh and steadied his hand on the fire button. He would give the doomed fighter's pilot right before him one last chance.

Darth Vader reached out with his Force senses, touching the other's presence with brute force, not bothering to exert any of his usual restrain. The other's mind flinched in sudden pain and the Dark Lord could not but notice the almost otherwordly beauty of his dark presence as it shone through the Force with faint yet strong and invincible light.

"You are doomed, Brandl", he transmitted to the Force-user. "Surrender or the hunt will end here and now."

The Sith Lord thought he could feel some kind of angry snort from his prey before he answered: "What will your master say if you kill me, Vader?"

Vader stiffened in sudden anger and he had to hold himself back not to push the fire button in a fit of rage. "He is not _my_ master, Brandl, but _our_", he told him sternly.

"Wrong, mylord", Adalric Brandl told Darth Vader's mind and laughed silently. "But considering you want to remain his servant I think you better kill me now. Then you can return home with the message of defeating yet another renegade Jedi." The Dark Lord's mind, however, did not answer to this, so Adalric added: "I am not afraid of dying."

"So that is how it shall be, then", Vader replied and retreated from the other's mind abruptly, concentrating on the ship's controls once more. A small red light went to green, signifying that Brandl's ship was now once more in range of his weapons.

"Goodbye", Vader whispered to himself and pushed the button.

Adalric Brandl, however, was not defeated that easily. The hunt had taken over five weeks by now and he wanted not to be killed by Vader without presenting the Dark Lord yet another challenge. So he pulled his ship's controls back and steered it in a high arch right into the planet's atmosphere. Darth Vader followed him, knowing that the two ships' course was almost suicidal. But he did not want his prey to evade him now, when the end was so close at hand. With an iron grip he forced his fighter down into the upper atmosphere, eyeing the temperature level of the outer hull closely. Then, Adalric was once again on his weapons' screen, the green light shining in the darkened cockpit.

But, as he steadied his finger over the fire button, he was distracted by a sudden and uncomforting sensation, rising quickly to unknown levels of pain. It was as if his essence, his inner self was torn apart by an unknown force, ripping him open with brutality and white-hot agony that seared through his mind.

The shot did not hit its target where it should, only destroying the other ship's engines, and it was only then, as his vision was splashed with crimson of his own pain, that he realized what was wrong: he could not feel the Force; it was no longer part of himself as it had been all his life. Had he not been in so much pain he could have felt the emptiness the Force's absence left in him.

He began to scream.

The ship, now robbed of its pilot's control, continued its steep descent to the planet's surface.


	2. Chapter 2

**Devotion**

**by adalric**

**Chapter Two**

…

Adalric Brandl had never believed in luck. The hope that may lay in that assumption was too great but neither had he belived in fate for he was unwilling to accept the path he had chosen so long ago and now wanted to leave behind. Fate could not prevent him from that, could not prevent him from fleeing the Emperor, fleeing all his offers of power and the cool and satisfying safety this offered.

So his belief in what kept the galaxy working and spinning was somewhat undefined and in between these two possibilities. Now, he was presented with a dilemma: he had decided to take fate into his own hands, finally, years after he recognized the path the Emperor had lead him on was wrong and ultimately would be his doom. For years he had been too coward to take the necessary steps this realisation implied. The dark side could not provide true peace or love but it was generous in supplying security and stability. It was a strange effect. The claimed power was cold but it provided self-assurance and with this came security and a bizarre sense of invincibility. There was peace, after all, but the dark side fed of strong emotions, hate, anger, distrust and these emotions were bound to disturb the accomplished sense of peace and tranquility. It was a never ending cycle. But he had stopped it. He had broken away. And now he was here.

He surveyed the destruction and devastation around him and could not quite work up the gratitude for still being alive. He allowed himself a few seconds of catching his breath and shaking off the last lingering shadows of the shock the impact had left in him and then began to work himself through the destroyed ship and debris before the whole thing would collapse on him, taking the aid of his lightsaber to clear his path.

…

After hours of waiting the Dark Lord lying across from him on the mossy ground finally stirred. Adalric watched with interest as Vader slowly came to consciousness, heard his breathing rate increase as he lifted his head and sat up, slowly, carefully, obviously in pain. Adalric struggled to maintain a plain, emotionless expression. "Awake at last, are we?"

Vader did not respond to that but merely fixed him with his captivating, unreadable gaze. Several breathing cycles passed without him saying anything, but when he did his voice lacked its usual strength. "Where are we? What have you done to me?"

A cruel, bitter smile. "You mean the great, infallible Dark Lord doesn't know?"

"There is no need to be cynical." Again silence. Then: "You will gain nothing by this, Brandl."

"By what?" Adalric asked and went over to stoke the fire he had ignited earlier. The forest night was cold.

"By holding me prisoner and hostage. The Emperor will not bargain with my life as the price."

The Dark Jedi looked up, curiously. "How does that make you feel?"

Vader did not answer immediately. Without the Force there was no way for Adalric to get a reading on his emotions or thoughts, and the mask of course gave nothing away at all. "I am not privy to be a judge on my master's decisions."

Adalric sat back on his blanket once more. "So, the Emperor would sacrifice you just to exact his revenge and you don't care? You do not expect me to believe that."

"I never said anything about sacrificing myself. Such a thing is not necessary. Blackmailing the Emperor … is against what policy dictates. Surely you understand the necessity. And it is not open to discussion."

Adalric sighed deeply. These were going to be some straining, difficult days that lay ahead. "You hit my ship and we both crashed on this planet. End of tale."

The mask turned to him. "Why should I believe you?"

"Why should I lie?"

Again ominous silence in between the measured breaths. "I cannot touch the Force. That makes me your prisoner."

Adalric could tell Vader had argued with himself whether to reveal this weakness and smiled at that. Part of him, the dark part, the part Palpatine had nourished, wanted to play along with this little game, to bring Vader in this vulnerable position of being hostage and prisoner and then relish it. With effort he discarded the thought. "What makes you think I can touch it? It is an effect of the environment on this planet. This is why I went here."

"I have never heard of such a thing. It is not possible."

Adalric did not feel strong enough to argue with Vader. "Believe it or not. But we have to find a way out of this situation. I was planning to go to a pirate base and it should be about fifty kilometers or so to the north. But you are injured and we have to make good time."

The Dark Lord slowly came to his feet and looked down upon the renegade Dark Jedi. Adalric, however, refused to feel intimidated and feigned calmness.

"If that were true", Vader said, his voice deep and menacing, "why did you save me then?"

Adalric also stood up. "I will collect some things from my ship. I think we should get started in the morning." He then walked by the Sith, ignoring his question to which he had no answer. Yes, why indeed? Not only was Vader his pursuer and enemy, but also injured to an unkown extent and would only hinder and slow Adalric down on his journey out of the forest. He decided to shove that question away for now; he would think about it when there was time and place.

…

Darth Vader could not remember the last time he had been in such a vulnerable position.

He looked after Adalric as the man vanished into the dark forest and then turned back to the crackling fire, watching the flames for long moments in silence until pain brought him back into reality. Carefully he moved himself and began to examine his body. It was worse than he had thought: in several places his suit had been torn, the skin and flesh underneath torn open, bloody and exposed. A deep piercing wound in his stomach hurt with pounding ferocity and a great, deep slash in his right thigh was still bleeding. Every time he put weight on his right leg it gave away, clearly indicating some bone damage and white stars danced before his eyes. His left hand must have been damaged in the crash also, he surveyed as he moved the prosthesis slowly before his eyes; its response was too slow and sluggish. And even though none of these wounds were by themselves life-threatening, he knew that with his normally from infections tightly isolated body now exposed to the outside world and no immediate medical help, the chances to survive a long and straining march through a forest were slim at best.

Of course, this was nothing the other Dark Jedi needed to know. He felt humiliated enough as it was.

What Brandl claimed was ridiculous. His anger was quick to come at the offense of being taken prisoner by an inferior Force user. He squeezed his eyes shut at the overwhelming feeling of loss the Force's absence left in his mind, a deep, gaping wound of longing. He felt incomplete, vulnerable, desperate. He knew the Emperor was able to cut his access to the Force if only for a very short time. He had done it a couple of times in the past as punishment, but not very often which left Vader with the conclusion that doing so must be very difficult. Surely Brandl was not able to do it for such a long time, he was after all only a Force adept, one of the Emperor's creatures whose sole purpose was to do his bidding, nothing more. And so Palpatine made sure to teach them only what was necessary. And to think of this being an effect of the environment … ridiculous. No, Brandl must have discovered some kind of technology and made use of it. To incapacitate and use him as a means to the end.

He tried to take a deep breath, failed because the, as he only now realized damaged machine was not allowing him to do so which infuriated him even more. _I will not be treated like this!_ he swore to himself and clenched his hands into fists. The anger in him was steadily rising but without the Force it was a strange feeling: he was not able to build it up with the aid of the Force, could not make use of it as he was accustomed to. This way anger was useless and only exhausted his energy reserves, quite contrary to what the Dark Side did with such feelings: power them up and give its user renewed strength and purpose.

He was startled into the present when Adalric came out from the undergrowth, carrying a small bag and some more wood under his arm which he threw beside the still crackling fire.

The motion was swift, even without the Force, from long years of practice. One kick to Adalric's knees, another crushing blow, even more effective with the inhuman strength of artificial limbs, to his chest and then the humming, red blade was at the Dark Jedi's throat. Brandl who now lay sprawled on the floor, did not move, did not try to even defend himself. He just regarded the Dark Lord with a surprised but otherwise calm expression on his face.

"You will tell me now what your intentions are!" Vader said in his most threatening voice, struggling to hold the blade still with his damaged hand, careful not to show his inability.

"Or else what?" Adalric asked quietly, "You'll kill me? I've already told you: I'm not afraid to die."

"I can make it a slow, painful death, if need be."

Adalric smiled, a small, cruel smile; his black eyes reflected the red light of the blade and gave him an unnatural look. "I don't think so. I'll tell you a few things, in case you haven't realized it yet. This is an unknown forest, not populated but with a very nasty and dangerous wildlife, and I know the only place where we can get help within a radius of at least five hundered kilometers. You are injured, badly so, and won't be able to survive on your own. I'm the only one here to help you." He shrugged, feeling the blade getting closer to his throat from the motion. "This means: I'm _your _life. If you kill me you have the satisfaction of humbling yet another man who offended you. But if you do so, you will certainly die. _I_ am not afraid to die? What about you? Are you prepared to face the eternal hells lying beyond?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Devotion**

**by adalric**

**Chapter Three**

…

The Dark Lord was silent and remained completely still and unmoving for at least five minutes. Adalric also was not moving from his position, lying on the ground with the lightsaber blade looming above. Then, when he knew the danger was over and Vader realized the truth in his words, as unwanted as that might be, he rolled from under the blade and got up, went over to the fire and threw in some of the wood he had collected.

Vader shut off his lightsaber but did not sheathe it. He just stood there, breathing hard. After half an hour of silence he started to sway on his feet and Adalric looked up, frowning. "You should sit down."

"It is not your place to tell me what to do!" Vader answered angrily but at least went over to the spot he had occupied earlier even if he did not sit down.

Vader paced up and down restlessly like a caged beast, limping slightly, wondering all the time at the absurd situation he found himself in. He was not used to giving in, to acknowledge that the other was right in what he had said, that he was dependent on him until they were able find their way back into civilization. But he recognized defeat when he encountered it. It need not be permanent. "How far away did my shuttle crash?"

"Why?"

Vader looked at Adalric questioningly, instantly suspicious and wondering if there was anything Brandl tried to hide. Then he mentally shook his head: if the other was to be believed and this whole situation was not some grand scheme of his to either put himself back into the Emperor's favour or blackmail his freedom, then Brandl had no reason to keep him away from his ship. He answered truthfully: "There are some items I need to collect."

Adalric did not look up from the flames. "Your ship's a complete wreck. I doubt you'd find anything still of use to you."

"Leave that to me", he answered shortly, then started to walk on in the direction Brandl indicated to him.

Yes, Vader needed to collect some things from his ship—nourishment he could eat in the suit, medication and medical paraphernalia, water supplies—but it was only half the truth. Primarily he needed to be alone, let it be only for a few minutes or maybe half an hour. He was not used to company, neither was he to not being in command. His whole body hurt from the various wounds he had collected—fresh or otherwise—and he was afraid to bare himself and his vulnerabilities in front of another. Out of habit and long years of practice in which he had never publicly displayed any weaknesses, were they of the mind or body, he was not ready and simply not able to overcome this long-standing habit now.

Vader knew Brandl was right: he was dependent on the other's help if he were to get out of this alive. Though he still maintained a healthy dose of suspicion—trust was simply not in the vocabulary of a Dark Lord—he did no longer doubt that Brandl had indeed nothing to do with the mysterious absence of the Force. Although this absence hurt, and a big part of him continued to long and yearn for the cool and calming power so much that it was a constant ache in his mind, he knew he had to accept that he was, for the time being, an ordinary, human being.

_But I am not human!_ his mind cried with desperation and conviction, _without the Force I am nothing more than a mechanically supplemented cripple!_ Vader tried to take a deep breath, remembered the Jedi calming techniques he had learned so long ago and in the past eleven years of his existence as a Sith had had no use for. Without the Force they were, of course, not nearly as efficient, but he succeeded in banishing these useless thoughts and concentrated on what he had to do now.

He had to survive. And in all the long years of living as a half-man constantly dependent on life-support, who had placed himself in the ways of countless danger and life-threatening situations and battles, he had learned at least one thing: the primitive, unconscious and almost reflex-like will to fight for a life he more than often did not consider worth living was a skill of his to be trusted in all situations. Even ones as absurd and humiliating as this.

…

Only a few hours later the sun slowly crept over the horizon but could not yet penetrate the thick forest and undergrowth and so they had to find their way in almost complete darkness. This posed, of course, no problem to the Dark Lord as his helmet provided him with facilities superior to those of the human eye and so he had taken, naturally, the lead. His injuries, however, were a different problem: they had already in the few hours since the crash continually gotten worse despite his efforts at first aid and reparations and precautions he had taken so far. They slowed him down considerably and already he was breathing heavily from the strain of a twenty-minute walk. Vader refused, however, to acknowledge this, even ignored the black spots that continued to dance before his eyes and told him that his ventilator was damaged and his body and brain were not getting enough oxygen. He focused on setting one foot in front of another, and again, and again, and again…

He was almost relieved when Brandl suggested to stop and rest for a while.

…

Adalric had secretly observed his companion, had recognized the stiffness in his movements, the wheezing of his breathing, the occasional stumble. And even if he had always despised the Sith and his stubbornness when both had got in his way, he now had to acknowledge his perseverance. Even gravely wounded and bereft of the powers that made him special, Vader refused to give in.

He was not sure what he felt exactly when he observed Vader slowly—too slowly—lowering himself to the ground after he had suggested a stop, but he suspected it was something akin to sympathy.

"You know", he started in between the bites from his ration bar, trying to sound casual, "you needn't hide you're in pain. There's no one to see."

Adalric was surprised by the hoarseness of the mechanical voice that clearly disclosed the state Vader was in. "It is a matter of principle. I am Sith."

He rolled his eyes at that comment. He should have, however, expected that much. "Yes, but you are also a human being. Humans hurt."

"If you knew what I am you would not say that."

Adalric was quiet for a few moments. What had that been, that brief hesitation in Vader's words? Self-consciousness? Shame? "What are you, then?" he dared to ask.

Surprisingly, Vader answered: "I am what the Force, and fate, made me. I am to do other people's bidding, never to be seen as …" He stopped suddenly, his breathing faltering shortly before it continued its rhythm.

"To be seen as what?" Adalric prodded, his curiosity clearly sparked now. He had heard Vader never talk like that before. It was disconcerning. Maybe this Force-less place had some strange effects on the other's psyche, making him talk about and reveal things he normally kept to himself. Maybe without the Force he was no longer able to hide behind the strong and fiercely guarded walls he had built to protect himself.

"It is of no consequence", Vader answered and tried to distract himself by going through the box he had collected from his ship. He took out a big syringe filled with some grayish fluid and then fumbled with his suit until he had pried it open, found the correct tube-ending and injected the syringe's contents. That done, he wearily leaned his back on the tree and closed his eyes.

Assuming the plastic syringe's contents was nourishment designed to be consumed while Vader was still in the suit, Adalric asked quietly: "How many of these do you have?", trying to sound not too intrusive in what he thought to be a touchy subject with Vader. It was.

"I…" Vader stopped. He never, _never_, talked to anyone about his body's deficiencies or special needs. Never. It filled him with a deep shame, and also regret. He sighed wearily. Brandl had a right to know, however, what he was getting himself into. "It … will be sufficient for two more days."

"Two?! And after that?"

"After that I have to trust in the Force."

…

As it was, Adalric was surprised a second time this day by the behaviour of the Dark Lord when Vader, after two hours of silent walking, started to ask questions.

"Why did you leave the Empire?"

When he was reluctant to reply, Vader stopped suddenly and turned to look at him. "It is only a question, Brandl. Not an interrogation."

Adalric kept his lips in a tight grimace. "I figured out that much." They continued walking. After some time he answered: "I think it was more like leaving the Emperor than leaving the Empire. I was … not content with the way he managed … certain things", he added, rather vaguely.

"You did not realize that when you joined him?"

"Did you? I was young and impressed by his powers. That is no excuse, of course, but I thought I'd learn how to use my powers, that he'd teach me."

"And that did not happen?"

He snorted at the obviously stupid, or more exactly: superfluous question, especially coming from Vader who had been in Palpatine's service longer than any other. "Of course not! You know what I am. Just another puppet on one of his strings. He constantly held me back, refusing to credit me with any real power. It was a tight leash." Adalric was quiet for a few steps, then he looked up at the back of Vader, the long, black cloak covering his shape from neck to floor, now dirty and worn but in a way still a manifest of his magnificent, powerful and untouchable presence and appearance. "He keeps you on a leash, also. Don't you resent it sometimes?"

"He is the master. It is not my place to question him. Neither is it yours", Vader added with some significance, then fell silent once again.

Adalric only shook his head. He could not believe that. Vader _had_ doubts, of that he was certain. He knew of Vader's sometimes idealistic nature, his strict adherence to his own code of honour, even if that sounded ridiculous in the face of him executing those who had failed him without trial, right on the spot. But the Dark Lord never expected more of others than he himself was willing to give. He always preferred the straight way and loathed the duplicity and hypocrisy politics involved. At least that was the impression Adalric had got over the past few years combined with the information he had gathered on Darth Vader, and he had observed him long enough, collected his various reactions and rare comments on some of Palpatine's decisions or other ongoings at the Emperor's court. Vader was not more approving of Palpatine's rule than he himself was.

All he wanted was a confession. For what purpose he did not know.

…

In the evening before darkness fell completely they set up camp, if two blankets for sleeping and a fire against the cold sufficed for that term.

After making sure the fire was alive, Adalric unwrapped another ration-bar and critically eyed his water supplies before he took a liberal swallow of it. Vader only shook out his blanket and then stretched out on it.

"I think we managed ten kilometers today. The forest is denser than I thought."

Vader gave no reply to this. He only lay there on his back, unmoving, his head turned backwards in a strange angle to allow for the flaring dome of his helmet. It looked uncomfortable. When no other comment was forthcoming after an hour, Adalric also lay down and fell asleep almost at once, wrapped tightly into his blanket.

He was roused from sleep a few hours later by strange, singing sounds nearby. He came awake instantly, sitting up and looking around. The fire had almost completely burned down, only providing a diffuse, orange glow in the dark. He was alerted even though he knew nothing of any predatory animals on this planet; but his information was neither complete nor had he given his studies much time before his decision to come here.

Adalric looked over to Vader, but he had not moved from the position he had fallen asleep in earlier.

Then, in a split-second's time, howls could be heard surrounding their 'camp' and small, brown animals leaped forth, baring their teeth and whipping their tails with strange, whistling sounds.

Adalric ignited his lightsaber and advanced on the nearest beast, which was quickly cut in two and followed by the next one attacking from behind. They were, as he observed, not attacking him but instead focusing on the Dark Lord, who had finally stirred from his sleep. Probably hindered by his injuries, his defences came too late and one of the animals had already sprung on his breast, clawing at Vader's suit and trying to bite through the protecting armour with its sharpened teeth.

Only as Adalric managed to cut two more of them in half, wounding one another seriously and Vader, with his one hand searching for his lightsaber at his belt while with his other trying to shake off the beast, finally impaled his attacker on his red blade did the other retreat. Howling all the way, they disappeared into the dark.

Adalric remained in a defensive position for a while longer, trying to catch his breath and realizing how weak and slowed down he was in combat without the assistance of the Force. Only when he was sure the danger had passed did he focus on Vader who had got to his feet after the attack for defence and who now was swaying on his feet.

He collapsed even as he watched.

…

…tbc

…

_Author's note: __I hope you liked it and would welcome any criticism and reviews._


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